Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Blue Shirt And Golden Tie

Published "The Arrow" by Andrea Light

"I should have foreseen that I was not cut out to be commuting.
Mica can not sleep, I, like everyone else, with the legs stretched and shoes resting on the seat in front and the head bent, which imbernoccola on the glass, every ripple of the tracks.
I am an incontinent expression.
To me, when I sit, I just beat it to write. "

"Today is my thirty-fifth birthday. Pomegranates, Knobs Carthaginians, Grenades, balustrades. I bow with great caution and check the Internet without even transcribe or the dictionary that I found these synonyms for pomegranates, I like and do not want anyone to disprove them. However, pomegranates, hundreds of pomegranates raining from the sky, large or small, yellowish or reddish, smooth or ball as a bit 'lumpy, soft, soft as if it were a sponge, without the actual texture and weight. Touch the ground and instead of crumble into thousands of poliedrini crimson, bounce and bounce and settle gently rolling on the floor. Pomegranates are in normal, as all the pomegranates in the world with the charm of the adventure that is released when you open them, the insight that you will take a lot of time to be able to eat just one, but for one appreciate them. One by one, the ruby a time. "

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